Francis Duggan

Rough As Guts - Poem by Francis Duggan

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A rough and ready sort of a bloke Rough as Guts is his nicknameDrunk or sober he's in a good mood he always seems the sameNever in a striped suit collar and tie formal clothes he never wearNo airs and graces about him his type of man are are.

At the Local pub he is often there never smelling like a roseHe always comes in after work in his work boots and corduroy work clothesWe respect him for what he is a good down to earth blokeTo him laughter comes easily and he is good to tell a joke.

Tall and broad shouldered and in his late twenties with curly dark brown hairWithout a god or religion yet he seems free of careHis blond lover is in her early thirties their's is a casual affairThey do make love occasionally though little in common they seem to share.

He works for a company of drainers storm water and sewerage pipes he layAnd one can truly say of him he works hard for his payRough around the edges he may seem but his heart's in the right placeAnd as carefree as a sunny Summer's day with a big smile on his face

When he backs a winner at the T A B to spend his winnings he is not shyHe goes to the counter of the bar and drinks for his mates he buyBut when the horse he bets on fails to run a place he only laugh and sayIn his next race he will be at longer odds not good enough today.

His nickname it is Rough as Guts a happy man is heAfter work in the Local pub he always seems carefreeA character in his own right and his type good to knowAnd he always greets you on the street with a big smile and hello.